SAMCRO Princess
by Harlee Quinn
Summary: AU: Clay Morrow is SAMCRO's VP. He's a rough and tough outlaw biker with no familial ties, except for his brothers, when he discovers the existence of his 6 year old daughter. Will he and his close friend, Bobby Munson, survive Jolene Morrow's first year in Charming? Prequel 1 to Charming's Worst Kept Secret.
1. The MC World is No Place for a Baby Girl

**A/N: This is the first in a series of one-shots covering events that were mentioned, but not fully explored in _Charming's Worst Kept Secret_. It is mostly detailed back story, and in a number of instances, incorporates some material that was initially deleted from the first story.**

**As always, your comments and reviews are important to me, so please don't hold back. I hope to post these one-shot stories at least twice a month, until their conclusion.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Clay Morrow was having a pretty ordinary day. That is, until he received the phone call that would change his life forever.<p>

It was business as usual at the T-M lot that late-Fall morning. The garage was teeming with mechanics working on several jobs that had to be completed before day's end. However, with an impromptu Church meeting called by their Club President, John "JT" Teller, all members of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original were on the lot as well.

An unexpected problem had put their next shipment of merch in jeopardy and JT wanted all hands on deck. He had spent most of the early morning locked in the Chapel with Clay, his VP, and they both agreed that the matter needed to be handled quickly and decisively. JT was putting Clay in charge to oversee the transport of the hardware, which was scheduled to arrive at the Oakland docks that afternoon as JT would not be around to see to it personally.

As they exited the Chapel, Clay clapped a meaty hand on JT's back. "I hope all goes well, brother. I know you're old lady must be excited."

JT nodded. "Thanks, Clay. Gem's over the moon to finally have Tommy home. He'll be discharged in a couple of hours, so we should have him settled in by the end of the day." JT headed for the Clubhouse exit. "Keep me posted on the transport."

"Don't worry. I'll make sure that everything goes as planned." Clay knew how concerned JT was that the shipment be delivered without a hitch. The NorCal gunrunning operation that JT had partnered with the True IRA to create wasn't the Club's sole means of earning, but it was the most lucrative. JT's share of the money from the sale of the Irish hardware went a long way when it came to making a dent in the huge medical bills incurred by his youngest son's failing health.

JT called over his shoulder. "And remember, we're expecting you over tomorrow for Sunday dinner to celebrate Tommy's homecoming."

"I wouldn't miss it, JT. Give your old lady my regards." Clay replied.

Clay always made an effort to be respectful of JT's woman. At 31, Gemma Teller was very beautiful and the epitome of what an old lady should be. She had been solely responsible for bringing SAMCRO to her hometown of Charming when the Club had been looking to settle down in a more permanent location in order to set up a base of operations. She was fiercely dedicated to her family, the Club, and only had eyes for her old man JT.

At 39, Clay Morrow was in the prime of his life. A tall, muscular man at 6'1 and 225 pounds with dark hair starting to go grey, he was a solid and forceful presence in the mother charter. A solitary man who had cut ties with his family back East, Clay had never seen the need for settling down with an old lady once he joined SAMCRO. He was content with using the croweaters and sweetbutts that were available to him at the Club and when he was on the road visiting other charters. Although the youngest of the First 9, the founding members of SAMCRO, Clay was quick to realize that women associated with the MC world were quick to throw up their skirts for any patch. As far as he was concerned, most were dirty whores and parasites, with very few having any virtues that amounted to anything worthwhile. However, he soon realized that Gemma Teller was the exception that proved the rule and, so far, the only woman he had met worthy of his respect.

Clay was about to head over to Bluebird to run a final check on the trucks making the trip to Oak-Town to pick up the Club's shipment when Bobby called him over to the bar. "Yo, Clay. You got a call."

He waved him off. "Take a message."

Bobby covered the receiver with one hand. "I've been trying to for the last five minutes, but this bitch is insistent. Says she's from Child Protective Services in Seattle."

"What the hell?" Clay glared at Bobby as he took the phone from him. "What's this about?" He barked.

"_Am I speaking to Clarence Morrow?" A cool brisk voice replied._

"Yeah, you are. Who are you and what the hell do you want?" Clay demanded.

"_My name is Miranda Brant. I'm with CPS in Seattle. I'm calling as I have an urgent matter that I need to discuss with you."_

"And what would that be?"

"_It's about your daughter."_

For a moment, Clay thought he was hearing things. It took a full ten seconds for him to respond. "MY WHAT?" He practically roared into the phone.

"_Your daughter, Mr. Morrow, and there's no need to shout. My hearing is quite fine."_

"I don't know what kind of joke this is, but I ain't got no kid." Hearing Clay's reply, Bobby, who was perched on a bar stool eating a piece of warm banana bread, started choking. Kyle Hobart, a new patch, clapped his brother on the back as he himself gobbled down a slice of the banana bread with a shot of Johnny Walker Black.

"_Well, it's no joke, I'm afraid. Six years ago on May 9, Valentina Robles gave birth to a female child at the Cook County Hospital in Seattle, Washington and your name appears on the birth certificate as the father."_

Clay felt his legs give way as he sat down hard on a bar stool. _Holy shit!_ Valentina Robles was a blast from the past. Clay hadn't heard that name or thought about that bitch in over seven years, and had been more than grateful not to, in case anyone was wondering.

Clay had been with a lot of women in his 39 years of hard living, but Valentina was probably one of the most beautiful he had ever had the privilege of banging and only after he was in over his head did Clay find out why. Valentina was a sex addict with a drug habit, a combination that afforded her the opportunity to use one to pay for the other and, as the saying goes, practice does indeed make perfect. Valentina had never met a dick she didn't like. Unfortunately, Valentina had been able to hide that side of herself from Clay for almost a year.

Clay had met her while he was on a run for the Club to Tacoma, where she had shown up at the SAMTAC Clubhouse ready to party. There had been something undeniably appealing about Valentina. With a lush body, a beautiful face, and her long dark hair, which strangely reminded him of someone else, he had found her to be sexy as hell. So when he made a move on her and she reciprocated, Clay thought that maybe settling down wasn't such a bad idea.

Over the next year, Clay made regular trips to see Valentina. He lavished her with money and gifts. She was like a drug to which he had become addicted to. It wasn't until he made an unannounced trip to Tacoma when Clay finally realized what he was really dealing with. Once the real Valentina had come out to play, Clay soon learned that not only was she fucking anything and everything with a penis, but she was the most demented, degenerate nutcase he had ever had the displeasure of coming across. He never told anyone, not even Bobby, but the bitch had torn his heart to shreds. He had loved her, and unnerved by how easily he had been fooled and manipulated by a pretty face and tight body, instead of getting her the help she needed, Clay had kicked her to the curb. After all, she was just another parasite, using her body to get what she wanted, and a junkie whore to boot.

Now, hearing that she had given birth to a child that she _claimed_ was his nearly sent Clay into orbit.

"Just because some junkie bitch spread her legs for me doesn't mean that I'm the father. Why should I believe I'm this kid's sperm donor?" Clay said angrily.

"_You don't have to believe it, Mr. Morrow. A simple DNA test can be performed and in a matter of weeks, we will know whether you are the father or not, and if you are, then you have a choice to make."_

"And what choice would that be?"

"_Ms. Robles has given up her parental rights to her daughter. Apparently, she is something of a problem child and Ms. Robles is either unable or unwilling to continue trying to raise her on her own. Also, there is some question about the child's health and well-being while under her mother's care. Now that the birth mother has given up custody, the burden now lands on you to raise her. You can even meet her prior to becoming her legal guardian."_

Clay's mouth went dry. _Raise a kid? Is she fuckin' nuts?_ However, before Clay could enlighten the CPS drone, she advised him that there was a second option.

_Thank God. _"And what's that?"

"_You can give up your parental rights as well and the minor child will be placed in a foster home. She is still young enough that adoption might be a possibility, but we would have to act fast."_

_The second option sure as hell sounds a lot better to me than the first._ "So what do I need to do to get this over with?"

"_All you need to do is to provide me a mailing address. A DNA kit will be sent to you. Simply follow the instructions and return it. If you are the __father, and you decide to raise her, then you get permanent custody. If you don't want custody, you sign some papers relinquishing your parental rights and you will never have to be concerned about her again."_

"That's sounds good to me." Clay quickly provided his address at the Clubhouse while Brant took down the information.

Gripping the phone, Clay had one more question. "Do you have contact information for her mother?"

"_Yes I do," Brant replied. "But is it really necessary for you to speak to her?"_

"It is, and if you want to get this DNA test back, I suggest you cooperate. After all, it seems like the kid's got an expiration date. Clock's ticking." Clay replied silkily.

Grumbling under her breath, Brant gave Clay a phone number and address in Seattle where Valentina now lived.

As he was about to hang up the phone, he saw Bobby frantically waving and mouthing words at him. Rolling his eyes, Clay asked reluctantly, "By the way, does this kid have a name?"

_Hearing papers being rattled over the phone, Brant finally replied. "Her name is Jolene."_

Clay abruptly ended the call. _Jolene? What kind of backwater country name is that?_

Bobby clapped his hand on Clay's shoulder. "Congratulations." Bobby said cheekily. "So what's his name?"

"_Her_ name is Jolene." Clay replied. "Can you believe this shit?"

"I can. Should have wrapped your junk, bro." Kyle replied as he helped himself to another slice of Bobby's banana bread. "And a girl, too? Man, she look anything like you, she's gotta be one ugly kid." He joked.

Bobby turned and glared at Kyle. "Why don't you shut the fuck up, you little piece of shit? Go get sucked off and leave the real men to talk."

Rolling his eyes, Kyle got up from the bar and strutted outside. _After all, getting sucked off is not a bad idea._

Bobby shoved his friend into one of the chairs across from the bar. The heavy-set biker walked around the bar, grabbed two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack, and returned to the table.

Pouring two shots, Bobby raised his glass. "Mazel Tov! It's a girl."

Clay eyeballed his brother and knocked back his drink. "You know, why don't you follow that idiot and go get sucked off, too? I don't need jokes right now." He groused. "I can't believe this shit."

"Well, Kyle was right. You should have wrapped your junk, especially with that whore. I told you that was a high traffic zone you were ripping through." Bobby shot back. "But, obviously, you lost your head to that particular piece of pussy and now you got a kid."

Clay pointed a ringed index finger at his brother. "I _might_ have a kid and, if I do, what the hell am I supposed to do about it?"

"Oh, I don't know," Bobby said rolling his eyes. "How 'bout raise her?"

"I don't know shit about raising children and I sure as hell don't know anything about six year old girls." Clay said grimly.

Bobby poured another round of shots. "Look, I'm a new father myself, and yeah, raising a kid is pretty overwhelming, but you need to seriously think about this before you do something you regret. SAMCRO will always be your family, but there's a chance this kid's got your blood pumping through her veins. Believe me, brother, nothing compares to the unconditional love you get from a child of your own. Think about it, brother." Bobby advised.

* * *

><p>The party was swinging in the SAMTAC Clubhouse, but Clay wasn't in a party mood.<p>

Sitting at a table in a dark corner of the Clubhouse with a bottle of Jack, Clay went over in his mind his recent encounter with Valentina. In the seven years since he had last set eyes on her, Valentina had aged some, no doubt a result of her current lifestyle choices. Surprised to see him, Valentina quickly attempted to seduce him in the hopes of scoring some cash. When Clay declined her proposition, the hellcat he had come to know made its ugly appearance.

Clay wasn't interested in Valentina's histrionics. Quickly coming to the point, he demanded to know why she hadn't contacted him about being the _so-called_ father of her kid.

Lounging on a chair, smoking a cigarette, Valentina laughed in his face. She hadn't contacted him because she had been too busy trying to find somebody willing to abort the little brat. Unfortunately, in her constant need for sex and drugs, Valentina had failed to realize that she was pregnant until she was nearly five months along, which at that point was far too late to terminate the pregnancy. The only reason she didn't give up the little wretch when she was born was that the brat allowed her to get a big fat check from the government for keeping it.

Valentina whined about the brat placing too many demands on her time, being a problem child who had some serious mental issues, and with CPS constantly up her ass about its healthcare and education, she decided to finally give the kid up.

"I didn't think you'd want her as you were so quick to kick my ass to the curb." She retorted. "Besides, why waste your time anyway? She's a worthless piece of shit."

Clay backhanded Valentina so hard, she went flying off her chair. Surprised at himself by the sudden and disarming burst of overprotective rage that had overcome him, Clay stomped out of the tiny, filthy apartment and never looked back.

Clay had no feelings whatsoever about the kid prior to his run in with Valentina, but after hearing the strung up slut talk about her own child as she was no more than a piece of human waste and seeing the pitiful living conditions that the kid must have lived under, Clay had felt some small feelings of sympathy for the pathetic creature. Nobody should have to live under circumstances like that. It was obvious that Valentina had treated her child no better than an abandoned dog.

So heavy was Clay into his thoughts, he gave a start when Bobby sat down beside him. "Still thinking about that junkie whore, huh?"

Clay had confided in Bobby what had gone down with Valentina. Out of all of his brothers, it was Bobby that he found to be the one that he could confide in the most without feeling like a total pussy.

Lifting what was probably his four or fifth shot of Jack to his lips, Clay sighed. "Yeah."

"It sounds like you have a situation on your hands, brother." As Clay looked at Bobby with a quirked eyebrow, he continued. "I think you need to go see her."

"Who?" Clay tried to play stupid, but Bobby wasn't having it.

"Who'd ya think? Mother Theresa? I'm talking about Jolene."

Clay rubbed his hands over his face. "Bobby, what would be the point? Besides, I don't know her, she doesn't know me. She's probably not even my kid. The results aren't back."

"All I'm saying is that it won't hurt to take a look at the kid. Seattle is less than an hour from here. I'll go with you."

Clay looked into his brother's eyes for a long time. "It's just a look, right? I mean, it's not like I have to take her with me, right?"

"Exactly." Bobby nodded.

Clay Morrow was a hard man. Nobody knew this fact more than Bobby, but he also knew that Clay used that hardness as a shield to keep people from getting too close. Bobby realized that, in spite of his success within SAMCRO, there had been something lacking in his brother, almost like a big gaping hole where his heart should be.

Bobby smiled to himself. He had the feeling that Jolene Morrow could be the one thing to make a difference in the life of this cranky bachelor biker.

* * *

><p>As Clay sat in the dingy waiting area of the Seattle Home for Children, he sighed heavily and he checked his watch for the fourth time.<p>

"It's only been twenty minutes, Clay. Chill out." Bobby advised. "You're making yourself anxious."

"I'm not anxious, damn it!" Clay growled. "I've never been 'anxious' about a damn thing in my life."

"Okay, how's about nervous? Does nervous work for ya?" Bobby wisecracked.

Clay briefly contemplated putting one of his size fourteens straight up his brother's ass, but looking at the prim and wizened receptionist keeping an eye on them as if she was in fear of being raped, thought better of it.

Before Clay could come up with a snarky comment, the door to the waiting room opened to reveal a tall, bony middle-aged woman with graying blond hair. "Clarence Morrow?"

Both Clay and Bobby stood up. "I'm Clay Morrow," He replied.

"I'm Miranda Brant. We spoke on the telephone." She held out her hand for Clay to shake. "And this is?" Brant asked, nodding at Bobby.

"Bobby Munson." Bobby replied and shook her hand.

"Well, come this way, please." Brant turned and walked back through the door heading down the corridor.

The drab interior of state-run home for children was totally depressing. As Clay walked along its corridors, he passed by several rooms that held children of all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages.

_They don't look too happy_, Clay thought to himself. _But how happy could they be—no family, nobody that cares about them._ _What a depressing place._

Looking over her shoulder, Brant said, "Mr. Morrow, I have to say that I was surprised to hear from you as we won't be getting the DNA results for another two days."

"Yeah," Clay replied, looking at Bobby, who gave him a shit-eating grin. "So was I."

Turning the corner, Brant stopped at a beige door. "Well, here we are. I'll take you in and introduce you. Mr. Munson, it's best if you come with me so that they can spend some one-on-one time together."

Clay was slightly panicked as he looked at Bobby. "Oh, I don't think that's necessary. Bobby can come along."

"I have to disagree. The first meeting is very important and neither of you should have any distractions. Follow me, please."

Clay hesitated briefly and then walked into the room.

The room, unlike the ones that he had passed in the corridor, was painted a cheerful yellow with colorful animated pictures on three of the walls, while the fourth sported what was obviously a large two-way mirror.

_God, I feel like I'm in an interrogation room_, Clay thought and for all intents and purposes he was.

At first, Clay thought there was no one in the room it was so quiet. Looking at a number of child-size seating areas that were scattered throughout the room, Clay's eyes finally fell on one Jolene Morrow.

The little girl was sitting at a table that was farthest away from the two-way mirror, with her back facing it. Immediately, Clay thought, _smart kid_. As Clay drew closer, the first thing he noticed was the wild and untamed heavy black curls that spilled over her thin shoulders. She was wearing a dark blue sweater that even he could see was too small for her very tiny frame, blue jeans, and a pair of worn Keds.

Brant spoke quite briskly and coldly. "Jolene, this is the gentleman I told you was coming to see you. Stand up and say hello."

The little girl sat still for a full ten seconds before she finally got up and turned around. Staring down at the child, Clay was startled when he was met with a blast of beautiful seafoam green eyes. As Clay's eyes ran over her face, he realized with a shock that she was the spitting image of her once-beautiful mother. _Well, thank God she doesn't have my ugly mug, _Clay thought. But what was even more amazing was the fact that even though he could see that she was scared, she was doing her best to hide it.

"Hello." Jolene barely parted her lips to speak.

"Uh, hi there." Clay blustered a little.

Brant headed for the door. "I'll leave you alone to talk for a while." The door closed with a sharp click which reverberated in the silence.

* * *

><p>Now that the CPS drone—known among the young residents of the state-run facility as "Bone Face"—had left the room, Jolene shyly peeked through her shaggy bangs to get a good look at the tall man standing in front of her.<p>

Wearing a blue flannel long-sleeve shirt, stonewashed jeans, black combat boots, a denim vest with patches, and a blue bandana tied around his forehead, Clay Morrow made an imposing figure.

_Big. Huge. And a little scary. _

Jolene had been a resident of the State for several months now. She had spent a couple of weeks in a hospital before she had been relocated to what the young residents called "Kid Prison." Jolene didn't like it here, but it was a hell of a lot better than living with her mother. The little girl shuddered slightly and tucked her hands into the pocket of her jeans, trying her best to not look like she was scared of the strange man standing before her.

It was very quiet in the room. Too quiet. Finally, Jolene got up the nerve to speak.

"What's your name?"

Clay, whose eyes had never moved from the small figure, replied. "It's Clay."

Jolene wrinkled her nose. "Like Play-Doh?" She queried.

Clay gave the girl a crooked smile. "Kind of, but not totally. It's short for Clarence."

Jolene considered both names. "I like Clay better." She said and gave him a tentative smile.

"So do I." He nodded over to the table. "You wanna sit down?"

Jolene cocked an eyebrow at him. "Okay, but sit over here." She walked around the table and pointed to a chair that had its back to the two-way mirror.

With a grin, Clay pulled out a ridiculously small chair and sat down gingerly. He was not surprised when Jolene picked out a seat right next to him so that they were both facing away from the mirror. In the adjacent room, an irritated Brant harrumphed loudly, while an amused Bobby looked on.

_Shit, this is definitely Clay's kid._

Clay knew, but he just had to ask. "Why are we sitting in these chairs?"

Jolene motioned with her hand. Realizing that she wanted him to bend down, Clay complied.

Looking over her shoulder at the mirror, Jolene looked up at Clay. "Bone Face is watching." She whispered. As she realized what she said, she clapped her hand over her mouth.

"Bone Face, huh?" Clay smiled as he noted Jolene's reaction. "It's okay. You're right. She is a little on the bony side."

Jolene giggled softly. "She's nosy, too! Nobody likes her."

"I can see why." Clay commented. "You like it here?"

"Not really. It sucks ass, but at least there's food to eat. It's not very good though."

Raising his eyebrow at the profanity, Clay said, "You shouldn't say 'ass'."

"Why not?" Jolene said, resting a small fist on a cocked hip. "I called Miss Brant Bone Face. What's the difference?"

With a sheepish grin, Clay realized that he really couldn't come up with a good answer. "Never mind." Trying to refocus his mind on the conversation at hand, Clay asked, "There wasn't food to eat before you came here?"

"No." Jolene replied. "Valentina doesn't know how to cook and she didn't buy a lot of food."

_My God, no wonder the child was so thin. She was being starved to death._

Clay's frown was intense and a little scary. "I'm sorry." Jolene said softly.

"What for?"

"You're mad."

Clay sighed. "Not at you, Jolene. At your mother." _The piece of shit!_

"Do you know her?"

"Yeah, I knew her a long time ago."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I'm mad at her, too."

_I'll bet_, Clay thought grimly.

"Well, you don't have to go back."

"Ever?"

"Ever." Clay moistened his lips. "How would you like to come stay with me?" Clay had not thought it possible, but Jolene's big eyes got even bigger.

"Leave KP?" She asked hopefully.

"What's KP?"

Jolene rolled her eyes. "Kid Prison."

Clay snorted. As he looked around, despite the cheery paint and pictures, Clay could see what Jolene meant.

"Yeah, this is a prison, and yeah, you could leave."

"Where would we go?"

"To be with my family. You see this?" Clay pointed to his denim cut. Jolene nodded. "This is very special. It means that I'm part of a special family, a brotherhood where we take care of each other."

"What's that on the back? It looks scary."

"That? That's the Reaper and it's nothing for you to be scared of. Anyone wearing the Reaper is family and they will always protect me and they'll protect you, too."

Jolene looked at the Clay's cut. Jolene whispered "It says 'Vice President.' Does that mean you're in charge?"

Clay grinned. "You read pretty good. It means that I'm second to the man in charge. We have a Clubhouse in a little town in California called Charming."

Jolene rolled her eyes again. "Like in a fairy tale?" She asked suspiciously.

"No, but it's a really good place to live."

"I don't believe in fairy tales." _They never come true._

"You know, you're a really smart kid." Clay pointed a finger at her as Jolene beamed. "Princes and princesses and living happily ever after might sound like a good deal, but in the real world, you gotta make good things happen for yourself."

Jolene tugged on his cut and Clay got the message. Bending down even closer so that only he could hear, Jolene whispered. "Why do you want me to go with you?"

Clay looked down into those incredibly expressive green eyes and he just knew. "Because I'm your father." As Jolene's eyes widened, Clay whispered. "I didn't know that you were around. Your," Clay hesitated briefly. "_Mother_ didn't tell me about you. If she had, I would have come for you sooner."

Jolene spent a long while looking into Clay's eyes and, apparently, she liked what she saw. With eyes flashing brightly, Jolene smiled hugely and stood up. "Okay. Let's go."

* * *

><p>It didn't happen quite as fast as Jolene had hoped, but two weeks later, which seemed like a year to a child of six, Jolene was in a cage and on her way to Charming. During the one-and-a-half hour drive from Oakland International Airport, Jolene sat in the back seat of a 1985 Impala making Bobby dizzy as she nearly talked his ears off.<p>

To say that Bobby was heart smitten was an understatement. At first, Jolene had been a little quiet, checking out the man with the large pot belly, wildly kinky hair, and denim cut just like her father's. But when Clay introduced him and gave him his seal of approval, it was as if the dam had burst open. Jolene had kept up a constant chatter, barely letting Bobby get a word in edgewise, asking question after question and keeping Bobby on his toes.

Bobby had never experienced being interrogated by a six year old girl before and, if the kid kept it up, she was bound to have a bright future as a trial lawyer. She would certainly save the MC a shitload of money, that's for sure. Jolene wanted to know everything there was to know about Bobby, so he told her all about himself, his second wife Precious, his son Milo, and his longtime love affair with the King, Elvis Presley.

When Jolene asked, "Who?", Bobby was quick to fill in the gaps in her sadly lacking musical education. Plugging in a CD, Bobby sang a montage of Elvis' greatest hits to Jolene's extreme amusement and Clay's rolling eyes.

Bobby quickly came to realize that Jolene Morrow, although young, was a smart little girl. Being that his firstborn, Milo, was only a year old, Bobby had no real experience with children of Jolene's age, but even he realized that there was something special about her.

Clay, who was doing the driving, would interject comments and, to Bobby's surprise, joked around with Jolene. It fascinated him just how quickly Clay was taking to the little girl with the huge green eyes. As a Son, Clay was most definitely a Man of Mayhem, but seeing him with what Clay had referred to as "The Kid", Bobby saw another, more gentler side of the seasoned outlaw that he had known for so many years.

Before the three of them knew it, Clay was pulling into the T-M lot. It was dusk and the garage was closed for the night, but there was some activity about the Clubhouse. A number of brothers were at the boxing ring, yelling out advice, cheering, and cracking on a fight currently in progress.

As the car pulled to a stop, an excited Jolene quickly released her seat belt and, before Bobby had been able to get out of the car, Jolene popped open the car door and leapt out. Standing in the shadows of the setting sun, Jolene stood huddled against the cold evening air in a thin winter coat and high water jeans. She slowly turned around, taking everything in.

"So, what do you think, kid?" Clay asked as he came around from the driver's side to stand next to his daughter.

Jolene looked sideways at her father. With a child's honesty, she replied, "Well, it's kind of a dump, but maybe it'll look better in the morning."

Bobby let out a belly laugh and affectionately tousled her hair. "Well, I see no moss grows on you, but you might want to keep that to yourself for a while."

Jolene nodded solemnly. Pointing over to the ring, Jolene turned to her father. "Why are they fighting?"

Picking her up, Clay smiled into her inquisitive eyes. "They're not fighting, baby girl. They're boxing."

"What's boxing?" She tilted her head and scrunched up her nose.

"Well, technically, it's fighting, but with a bunch of rules. Let's go take a look." With raised eyebrows, Bobby followed his VP to the ring.

The young Scotsman, Filip "Chibs" Telford, an ex-IRA soldier and the newest member of SAMCRO, courtesy of the Belfast charter, was currently in the ring. The Club was going to unleash what they hoped would be their brand new killing machine in a boxing match in Galt the following week. Chibs had been training day and night for the fight and was currently making mincemeat out of a new Prospect in the ring.

Holding Jolene in his arms, Clay introduced his daughter to the Sons watching the fight, including Lenny "The Pimp" Janowitz, the Sergeant-at-Arms, Piney Winston, co-founder of the Club, and a new patch, Big Otto Delaney.

Being held so securely by her father, Jolene was unafraid and cheerful when meeting all of her father's brothers. She remembered her father telling her that everyone wearing the Reaper would be her friend, so she felt safe, despite the loud and boisterous men who seemed so big and overwhelming.

Clay pointed at the ring, explaining what was happening to Jolene, while Bobby shook his head exasperatedly. The ring was no place for a little kid, never mind a girl, but Jolene didn't seem to be afraid of the violence she witnessed, instead staring intently at the fighter landing blows on the hapless Prospect.

Clay looked down at Jolene. "So, what do you think?" Nodding at the boxers in the ring.

Jolene watched intently and pointed to the Prospect. "Why doesn't he put his hands up? Then he wouldn't get hit so much."

The entire crowd erupted with howls of laughter, not the least of which was Chibs. "Lil luvvie here knows a hell of a lot more about fighting than you ever will, you shit-for-brains Prospect." Shoving the Prospect on his ass, Chibs walked over to the ropes and leaned on them. "And how do you know that, lil girl?"

Looking up at Chibs, Jolene replied, "Cause that's what I used to do when my mother would hit me."

Immediately, the crowd quieted down and at first no one knew what to say, not even Bobby.

Finally, Chibs crouched down. "Well, maybe one of these days, when you're a wee bit older, I'll give you some real lessons. I bet ya will do better than that sorry sack."

Jolene's eyes widened. "Promise?"

Chibs pulled off his glove and offered the little girl his pinky. Smiling from ear to ear, Jolene wrapped her tiny finger around his. "I swear."

* * *

><p>Still carrying Jolene, Clay followed Bobby, who was lugging a battered suitcase containing Jolene's meager possessions, into the Clubhouse. Jolene's eyes roamed over the Main Room, quickly taking in the beautiful hardwood bar, the pool table, the doors that housed the Chapel, the kitchen, and the mug shots on the wall.<p>

Seeing something that she didn't understand, Jolene reached out and grabbed her father's chin to turn his face in her direction. "What?"

Pointing to a platform on which stood a long, shiny pole, Jolene asked, "What's that?"

Clay's eyes widened in slight panic, so Bobby quickly replied. "Oh, that's just a dance floor, Kitten." Putting her suitcase down by the bar, he reached for Jolene, who quite willingly went into his arms. She seemed to enjoy being carried around and Bobby was not at all surprised.

_The poor thing probably never had a decent cuddle in all her six years on this earth._

"How would you like me to make you some of my famous homemade Mac and Cheese for dinner?" Bobby asked.

"What's that?"

"You never had Mac and Cheese before?"

Jolene shook her head solemnly.

"Well, you are in for a treat, Kit. You just sit right here and watch me whip some up." Bobby walked over to the kitchen and sat Jolene down on a stool.

Looking over his shoulder at Clay, he said, "Maybe you should take Kit's suitcase to your dorm and get rid of anything else that you might not be prepared to explain." Bobby gave a slight nod to Jolene, who was currently checking out her surroundings.

_Thank God there were no croweaters or sweetbutts around. Clay would have had a hard time explaining them._

Bobby had tried convincing Clay that he was going to have to think about getting an apartment and move out of the Clubhouse as it was certainly no place to raise a child, but Clay had poo-poohed the idea. As Clay hurried off to take care of business, Bobby could see that he might finally be getting through to the rough as a cob outlaw biker.

About an hour later, Jolene was sitting at a table in the Clubhouse with her father and the man she now called Uncle Elvis and was served her very first home-cooked meal. As Jolene bit into the creamy, cheesy pasta topped with buttery seasoned breadcrumbs, she smiled at both her daddy and her new uncle.

She knew that things were going to be all right from now on.

* * *

><p>Over the next week, Jolene quickly adapted to her new surroundings and fell in love with her father, her Uncle, and her new SAMCRO family.<p>

Spending her days exploring the Clubhouse, learning how to play pool from her father, and eating man-sized portions of the food that Uncle Elvis made for her every day was like a dream come true. And Jolene came to realize that her father was wrong after all—fairy tales _do _come true and he was her knight in shining armor.

The only dim spot on the horizon was the fact that soon they would be moving out of the Clubhouse and into a house. Clay had assured her that it was close by and that she would still be at the Clubhouse a lot, but Jolene had loved sleeping in her father's dorm.

Her first night in the Clubhouse had Jolene sleeping in a small trundle bed that Clay had bought secondhand from the thrift store next to Lumpy's Gym. Jolene had liked it well enough, but it had been cold in the room that first night and, in spite of the blanket she wrapped around herself, she had curled up into a little ball in an effort to keep warm. Not realizing that her teeth had been chattering from the cold, Jolene was surprised when the light came on in the room.

"What's going on over there?" Clay asked. Propping himself up on his bed, he looked over to see Jolene in a tight little ball. "You cold?"

At first, Jolene didn't want to tell him, thinking that he would be upset, but finally she nodded.

Clay sighed and then flipped back the covers on his bed. "Come on then."

Like a shot, Jolene hopped up and into the warm bed with her father. In the space of a minute, she was out like a light and for the next week, Jolene slept with her father every night.

Clay rolled over onto his back and laughed. _I can see that having a kid is going to put a crimp in my efforts to get laid_. Clay decided right then and there that, come morning, he would be hitting the streets to look for an apartment.

Instead, Clay had found a small two-bedroom house for rent only a few blocks away from the Clubhouse and the elementary school that Jolene would be starting soon. He and Bobby spent the day with Jolene shopping for furniture for their new home and, most importantly, clothes to replace Jolene's meager wardrobe.

Clay was still having a hard time accepting what had been done to Jolene and the guilt was twisting him up inside. He had seen the scars and the cigarette burns on her little body and his anger blazed each time he thought of the piece of shit woman who had brought her into the world. Clay was determined to try and make up for all of the pain and suffering that Jolene had suffered at her hands.

And the first order of business was to provide his baby girl with a new wardrobe.

Clay and Bobby stood in the children's department of Mervyns in complete shock. Surrounded by so much pink, Clay was about to pass out from the sugar shock of it all. A saleswoman had finally taken pity on the two bikers, who obviously had no clue when it came to shopping for little girls. Grateful for the reprieve, Clay informed her that money was not an issue and the saleswoman proceeded to outfit Jolene in the latest and greatest, including a pink princess nightgown, the first she would ever own.

Jolene was in awe as she watched the saleslady plunk armful after armful of clothes down at the register to ring them up. Seeing her father pay for them, it finally sunk in that they were really hers.

Now, wearing one of her new outfits, a pair of black corduroy pants, a red sweater, and a thick winter jacket, Jolene was being ushered into the Teller household for the first of many Sunday dinners to come and to meet the President of her father's Club and his family.

The Teller home was situated at the west end of Charming's city limits. The one-story, three bedroom house was cozily set between two houses that occupied a cul-de-sac. As Jolene walked into the house, she saw that it was already filled to capacity with members of SAMCRO and their families. There were a number of children running in and out of the house and there was loud and boisterous laughter of the men in the living room, while their old ladies occupied themselves with getting dinner on the table.

Jolene looked up as a tall man with long, dark hair and a beard approached her and her father. Slapping a hand on her father's back, the man said, "Clay, glad you made it." Looking at Jolene, JT smiled as he crouched down to eye level with her and held out his hand. "You must be Jolene. I've heard a lot about you." As Jolene shook his hand, Clay raised an eyebrow.

JT laughed as he straightened up. "It seems Chibs is determined to get your daughter in the ring one of these days. He thinks she'll do a better job than the Prospect." As both of the men laughed, JT looked over his shoulder as he heard someone approaching. "Gem, look who's here."

Jolene's eyes doubled in size as she got her first look at the Queen of Charming.

Gemma Teller made a regal entrance. Wearing tight leather pants with four-inch boots, a sexy red flared top with cut-out sleeves, and large silver hoops, Gemma's dark hair with platinum streaks shone brightly.

"Hello Clay, Bobby." Looking down Gemma's eyes met Jolene's. "And you must be Clay's daughter."

Jolene looked at the woman and suddenly her old shyness kicked in. Barely able to meet her eyes, Jolene wrapped her arms around her father's leg and replied in a soft voice. "Hello."

"Well, not much for words, huh?" Gemma said. "That's okay." She looked at Clay. "I'm sure she'll get used to us soon enough."

Before Clay could answer, a young boy dashed across the room, followed in hot pursuit, by another taller one. "Jax, Opie." Gemma called. "Come over and say hi."

And that was the moment Jolene Morrow had been introduced to the boy that would become the greatest love of her life, Jackson Teller.

Although he was standing next to another boy with reddish brown hair, who was at least a good head taller, Jolene only really saw the blond-headed boy of about ten with the bright blue eyes and easy smile.

"Jax, this is Clay's daughter Jolene. Why don't you take her out back, introduce her to the rest of the kids?" Gemma asked.

"Okay, Mom." Jax nodded his head at the little girl with huge green eyes. "This is Ope. Come on back."

Jolene looked up at her father, who nodded his approval, and then followed the two boys to the backyard.

"She's a cute little thing," JT said. "Quiet, though."

"Yeah, right. Just give her a minute to warm up. Then she'll talk your head right off your shoulders." Bobby replied, with a hint of pride gleaming in his eyes.

* * *

><p>Jolene was having a good time. The food had been plentiful and delicious and everyone was surprised at just how much she could eat. They didn't know, but when you've spent days locked in a closet without food like she had, you learned to take advantage and eat your fill whenever it was available as you could never be sure when you'd get to eat again.<p>

Now, feeling a little stuffed, Jolene headed towards the back of the house to use the bathroom. After washing her hands like Uncle Elvis taught her and closing the bathroom door behind her, she heard the loud thump of something falling on the floor. At the end of the hallway, Jolene saw a light shining through a door that was open just a crack.

Hesitant at first, Jolene crept towards the room and peeked into the room. She saw a small boy wearing Spider-Man pajamas, leaning over the bed as he tried to reach for the book that had fallen on the floor.

Jolene pushed the door open and ran towards the bed. "I'll get it." She bent down and picked up the book. It was actually a large comic book. Jolene handed it to the thin, blond-headed boy who was trying to catch his breath.

"Are you okay?" Jolene asked concerned.

The boy nodded, but it took a moment for him to speak. "Thanks. I'm okay. I just couldn't get my book."

Jolene looked at his face, which looked rather pale. "Maybe I should get somebody." She started to turn away, but the boy quickly stopped her.

"No, I'm okay. Really. If you tell, they'll make me go to the hospital again and I don't want to go back."

Jolene turned around. She could understand that. Having spent two weeks being poked and prodded in a hospital before going to Kid Prison, she knew the feeling.

"Okay." She replied. "I'm Jolene. What's your name?"

"I'm Tommy Teller."

Jolene nodded. "Are you too sick to come outside to play?"

"Yes. My mother won't let me play with my brother and Opie." At Jolene's confused look, Tommy said, "Jax is my big brother. He and Opie wanted to stay with me for a while, but Mom said I need to be quiet and still. That's why I was reading, but my eyes get tired."

Jolene looked at Tommy. "I can read. Do you want me to read it to you?"

Tommy's face brightened and he got a little color in his pale cheeks. "Yeah, sure." He patted the side of his bed. "Come here and sit next to me."

Jolene kicked off her sneakers and climbed up on the bed. "You might have to help me with some of the big words."

The two children lay against the headboard, with Tommy's head leaning on Jolene's small shoulder. Reading the exploits of Spider-Man vs. Dr. Octopus, neither of them noticed Gemma Teller standing in the doorway.

Gemma's eyes were moist as she saw her baby boy being cheered up by the newest addition to SAMCRO's family. Backing away slowly, Gemma closed the door.

_That one is definitely a keeper_.


	2. Finding Her Place in the MC World

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

**A/N: I know I said that this was going to be a one-shot, but the muse kicked in. Once started, it kinda got away from me and ballooned up to almost 12,000 words. I probably should have broken this installment into two chapters, but since it contains mostly snippets documenting Jolene's first year in Charming, I believe it reads better as one chapter. I hope you enjoy and, if you do, please let me know. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

><p>"You gonna eat that?"<p>

Looking down, the man shook his head in wonder at the empty platter sitting in front of his companion. Nicky's famed "Hale & Hearty Breakfast" was not for the faint of heart. It was named after Daniel Hale, one of the men responsible for establishing the town of Charming back in 1859. Unlike the prominent and upscale family the Hales had always purported themselves to be, Daniel had actually come from old pioneer stock.

Leaving his family on the East Coast behind, he had joined thousands of Americans who journeyed across the country to find their fortune during the California Gold Rush. Arriving in 1852, Daniel was not afraid of hard work and, being a solid laborer, he moved quickly in his quest to become a rich man. After working in a gold mine, Daniel was able to branch out on his own, striking it rich with several gold strikes before relocating to the fertile Central Valley. It was there that he met Robert Oswald, who had invested his own gold mining fortune into purchasing large tracks of Redwood country to start his own lumber mill. Together, these two men, who had become good friends, went into business, ultimately bringing well-paying jobs to the area, which eventually morphed into the small town of Charming.

However, several generations later, the two families had severed ties, with the Oswald family coming out ahead financially. Over the next hundred-plus years, the Oswalds had increased their lumber empire to tackle the construction and beef industries, while the Hale family went strictly white collar, entering the area of law and politics while still making a fortune as prominent land developers.

A hard worker, Big Dan Hale, as he was known to everyone, had a legendary appetite. Nicky's breakfast special consisted of three eggs, two strips of bacon, two sausages, two pieces of ham, hash browns, three pancakes, and a choice of juice, tea or coffee.

However, Clay's companion always chose milk instead.

With his eyebrow raised, Clay looked at the empty plate, which practically looked as clean as if it had just come out of the dishwasher. Looking down at the remains of his own breakfast, Clay lifted his plate and switched it for his daughter's empty one.

Picking up her fork, Jolene smiled at her father. "Thanks, Daddy." Reaching for the bottle of syrup on the table, she liberally poured it over what was left of Clay's pancakes and bacon. "Can I have some more milk, please?" Jolene inquired.

Trying his best not to laugh, he replied, "Sure. Why the hell not?"

Clay waved a hand to their waitress and when he caught her eye, raised Jolene's empty glass. The woman shook her head with a smile and, retrieving the pitcher of milk from the refrigerated display case, headed towards their booth to refill Jolene's glass for the third time. It had become well-known that although Daniel Hale had long ago passed away, his ferocious appetite lived on in the form of a tiny, wide-eye Kewpie doll by the name of Jolene Morrow.

Ever since Jolene had come to Charming, breakfast at Nicky's Diner had become something of a staple for the Morrow family. Clay had made a number of significant changes to his lifestyle, including moving out of the Clubhouse and into a real home for his new daughter, but there were some lines Clay was not about to cross. Putting on an apron and cooking were two of them.

Fortunately for Jolene, Uncle Bobby was a whiz in the kitchen and genuinely loved to cook. Most mornings, Clay would get Jolene ready for her day of learning and, if Bobby was available and not at home with his own family, he would take her to the Clubhouse so that Uncle Elvis could feed her.

The rest of the time, Clay would take Jolene to Nicky's Diner where she had literally amazed the townsfolk with how much she could put away. Sometimes, the outlaw biker and his daughter ate at Nicky's twice a day, especially on Thursdays for their meatloaf special. Although it was pretty good, nobody could make a meatloaf quite like Gemma Teller, which was Jolene's all-time favorite, not that she would ever admit it to anyone.

Clay smiled to himself. _My baby girl sure looks a lot better now than when she first came home._

It had been six months since Jolene's arrival in Charming and she was practically unrecognizable from the small and half-starved child she had been. She had recently been giving a clean bill of health from her doctor, who informed Clay that, as far as development went, Jolene was almost on track with her peers, having managed to gain twelve pounds and growing two inches in the time she has lived with her father. Although she would always suffer from the cold due to the irreversible nerve damage caused by her POS egg donor, Jolene was now the picture of health and vitality.

The couple made a strange pair—the rough as a cob outlaw biker looked frightening to the extreme, while the little girl sitting across from him, slender and barely 3½ feet tall, with wide green eyes and a mop of black curls, looked nothing like her father. Generally speaking, while most of the folks around the small town respected the biker and the Club that protected it, others found it hard to believe that the child wasn't at all afraid of the biker like they were.

But to Jolene, her father was her knight in shining armor—albeit with a few dents and patches of rust—who had saved her from a lonely existence and brought her to a town where she was now part of a big family and was protected by an extended brotherhood.

Jolene drained her glass dry and slammed it down, in imitation of a certain Patron-loving biker and smiled at her father as she let out a loud burp. "That was good." She announced.

"You sure you don't want nothing else?" Clay snarked. "I'm sure they can find something back there for you to eat." He kidded.

"It's not my fault that you don't know how to eat good food when it's there." Rolling her eyes, Jolene said mischievously. "You should never waste food, Daddy because you never know when you're going to eat again." She counseled wisely.

Clay felt a pang in his heart. The lessons Jolene had learned in her childhood had been hard. Even though she had been with her new family for months, Clay realized that it would probably take years for Jolene to be able to overcome the years of abuse and doing without. Thanks to her bitter waste-of-good-air mother, it would take a long time and a lot of love in order for Jolene to get over the feelings of fear and low self-esteem that had been drilled into her at such a young age.

Wishing he had done more than just smack her bitch of a mother down, Clay forced a smile onto his face. "It's okay, baby girl. You eat what you want, when you want."

_One day, she'll understand that she will never have to worry about where her next meal is coming from ever again._

Standing up, Clay tossed cash on the table to cover the bill and a generous tip. "C'mon, or you're going to be late for school and we can't have that."

Jolene quickly slid out of her chair. "No we can't."

'_Cause Drill Sarge don't play that._

* * *

><p>Clay pulled his 1985 Impala into the driveway. He wasn't into cages. Not at all, but with a young daughter, it had certainly come in handy when it came to getting her around. Jolene actually preferred riding on his Harley with him. Well, no surprise there, after all, she was a Morrow, but as carefully as Clay rode his bike, he knew it would destroy him should something happen to Jolene while she was riding with him.<p>

Slamming the car door behind him, Clay followed Jolene up the walk to the screen door, which was currently shut, but the front door was open to allow the cool Spring breeze to travel through the house.

Knocking on the doorframe with one of his bear paws, Clay grinned as Gemma Teller walked into the hallway and pushed open the screen door.

"You're late." The stunning woman was dressed conservatively today, wearing a pair of denim jeans, a white tank top and one of JT's oversized blue flannel shirts. As her eyes met Clay's twinkling blue ones, Gemma was surprised to see the obvious, although respectful, admiration reflected in them, especially considering how plainly dressed she was.

"Sorry," Clay said with a big shit-eating grin, as he and Jolene stepped into the house. "Had to tie a feed bag on The Kid." Clay always referred to Jolene as "The Kid", for the most part, when speaking to others. After all, he couldn't let the other patches think he was soft, even though he would sometimes slip up and call Jolene by his true pet name for her, baby girl.

Gemma shook her head at his comment and looked down at his daughter, who over the last few months had quickly shown her true colors. The once quiet child actually had a bubbly and vibrant personality, totally different from her father. In fact, Gemma had come to believe her husband's VP was a little taciturn and cold, but after seeing him interact with his daughter, she realized that he had a somewhat charming personality—when he chose to exercise it.

Making eye contact with Jolene, Gemma nodded. "Well, go on in. Tommy's waiting for you."

Quickly glancing at her father and her teacher, Jolene finally decided she didn't care. Tugging on the long sleeve of her father's shirt, which was her standard way of getting him eye-to-eye, Clay bent down to face his daughter. Wrapping her small arms around his neck, she gave him a good squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

"See ya later?" She questioned.

"You bet." Clay stroked her tangled mop of her hair once, before swatting her lightly on her behind. "Go on, get to work."

As the little girl ran into the house, Gemma smiled wryly. Even after all this time, it still amazed her how quickly Clay had settled into his role as a father. He wasn't perfect, not by any means, but his love and affection for the young girl was obvious to anyone, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

_However, the man is in sore need of some help_, Gemma thought as she looked at the tight red sweater on Jolene's retreating small frame.

Gemma put a hand on her cocked hip. "Clay, don't you think it's about time Jolene got herself some new clothes? The way you feed her, it's a miracle she can still get in them."

Clay rubbed his hand wearily on his forehead. _Shit, what was it with broads and clothes? _

"Yeah, Gemma, I know. I know, but I can't go through that shopping hell again and neither can Bobby." He groused. "Just too much damn pink." Clay muttered his breath to himself.

Gemma shook her head. Clay was just as bad as JT, if not worse. _What is it with men and shopping?_

"Well, Spring is here and you can't have your daughter running around in tight sweaters and high-water corduroy pants looking like some Little Orphan Annie reject." Gemma complained. "Look, Luann and I are going on a shopping trip to the new mall in Stockton this weekend. I don't mind taking Jolene along and getting her outfitted."

Clay looked at JT's woman with a light in his eyes. "Really? Gem, that would really help me out a lot."

Gemma smiled. "Well, we are family—that's what we do for one another." Walking Clay to the door, she opened it to let him out. "Don't worry. We'll take her on Saturday morning and get it done in a snap. I mean, how hard can it be to dress a little girl?"

Clay turned back to look at the sexy brunette. "You'd be surprised. Jolene has a pretty strong opinion."

"I know, I've been teaching her for six months now, remember? I think I got a handle on her though."

Shutting the screen door, Gemma walked away. Clay couldn't help but look at the retreating figure.

_JT sure is a lucky man._

* * *

><p>Jolene had come to love being in the Teller household. The warm and comfy atmosphere was different than her home, not necessarily better, but different nonetheless.<p>

It was just dealing with the Drill Sarge that Jolene found to be somewhat terrifying. The title, which Jolene couldn't take credit for, had been given to Gemma Teller by her oldest son behind her back. Jolene couldn't believe that Jax had the balls to make fun of his mother like that and, in the six months that she had known him, had steadily built him up into some sort of hero and looked up to him, much like his younger brother Thomas did.

The fact was that Jax had been pretty accurate with the description, for over the last six months, the Drill Sarge had cracked the whip over both Jolene and her young son, homeschooling both children five days a week.

Gemma Teller loved her family more than anything on earth, with only the Club coming in a close second. Her children and her husband were the center of her universe, but it was her baby Thomas that tugged at her heartstrings the most. Thomas suffered from the family flaw since birth and had undergone numerous surgeries in his almost seven years of life. Gemma and JT had hoped that somehow, like Jax, Thomas would outrun the disease that had inflicted so much strain on his health, but the doctors were not optimistic.

Hoping for the best, but fearing the worst, Gemma wanted to make what time Tommy had as normal as possible and had decided to home school him as his health would never allow him to attend public school. When Jolene Morrow found out, she begged her father to allow her to be taught by Gemma as well, to Clay's great shock.

Gemma had been grateful. From the moment she saw Jolene tenderly administering to her son, Jolene had managed to burrow her way into Gemma's heart. She had a soft spot for the girl because anyone who was willing to bring some joy and normalness into her son's sheltered life was okay in her book.

Both children managed to make good progress, although there were times that, with Tommy's ill health, he would be unable to participate. Jolene, however, always helped him catch up on his missed work. Often times, she would even help him during tests when she knew she wasn't supposed to.

Now, as Gemma faced the blackboard that was set up in the Teller living room, she heard the soft giggling of the two children. Hiding her own grin, Gemma turned to face them with a stern expression. Tommy and Jolene were sitting on the sofa, each with breakfast trays across their laps that made perfect makeshift desks. That morning, Tommy had been adamant about wearing a pair of jeans and a SAMCRO t-shirt.

"Mom, kids don't wear pajamas to school." He had insisted, as he struggled to put on his clothing by himself earlier, so Gemma stood back and allowed her son his dignity.

_He is so much like his father._

"All right, you two. Enough chattering. We have a lot to cover today." Gemma said as the two children groaned.

* * *

><p>"Mom, we're home!"<p>

As the screen door banged shut and the thunderous running footsteps travelled through the house, Jolene and Tommy looked at each other and grinned.

Seeing the mischievous looks on her two young charges, Gemma figured that she might as well throw in the towel. It would be unlikely that she would be able to finish her planned lesson now that Jax and Opie were home.

Entering the living room, Frick and Frack—as Uncle Elvis called them—threw their backpacks down on one of the chairs. While Opie sat down next to Jolene, Jax plopped down next to his baby brother and put Tommy in a gentle headlock, giving him a noogie.

"Hey, Ma. How'd the brat do today?"

Looking at her oldest son, who was the picture robust health, Gemma opened her mouth to respond, but Jolene beat her to it.

"He's not a brat, and he's just fine." She said, crossing her arms.

"Yeah," Tommy chimed in as he leaned into his brother's embrace. "I'm fine. Mom, can we play some games with Jax and Opie? Please?"

"What?" Opie asked in mock shock. "You looking to get creamed again?" The 5½ foot tall man-boy moved Jolene's table tray, stretched out on the sofa, and put his feet in her lap.

Jolene quickly shoved his feet off her. "Watch it, Sasquatch!" She warned. "Besides, me and Tommy are gonna take both of you out this time."

"That's some pretty big talk coming from such a small squirt." Jax snarked.

"I'm bigger than you where it counts, sport." Jolene shot back, pointing to her head.

Tommy looked at the two of them and grinned. He loved when Jolene gave his big brother as good as she got.

"Well, make some room in that big brain of yours cuz you are in for some real schooling. C'mon, Ope. Let's get this game going. You get it from my room." Jax directed. Standing up, he easily picked up his little brother in his arms. "Jo, go get a blanket and a pillow and meet us outside. It's a nice day for us to play at the patio table. Can you get us some snacks, Ma? I think we're all hungry."

Not waiting for his mother's reply, Jax headed for the doors leading to the backyard.

Seeing the tender way in which he cared for Thomas tugged at Gemma's heart. Jax was well aware of his brother's failing health, but would not give up on the hope that he would one day recover.

She could only hope that Thomas would survive and save his big brother the devastation of losing him.

* * *

><p><em>Clay wasn't kidding when he said Jolene had a mind of her own.<em>

Luann voiced Gemma's opinion out loud. "That is one stubborn little kid. I didn't think one simple dress would send her spiraling into orbit." She half-whispered.

The two women waited patiently by the 360-degree mirror that was in the middle of the girls' fitting room in one of Stockton Galleria's upscale department stores. Jolene had pointedly insisted on trying on the clothes she had selected by herself in one of the small cubicles, relegating Gemma and Luann to wait outside.

The SAMCRO women and child had made an early start to get to the mall in Stockton, the plan being to get Jolene outfitted and done in time for her father to pick her up by noon. That way the two old ladies could continue shopping on their own. Now, waiting for the SAMCRO Princess to show off her wardrobe choices, the two old ladies discussed their young companion thoroughly.

"That is no little girl," Replied the Queen of Charming, thinking of the girl's father. "That is a crotchety middle-aged man stuffed into the body of one."

"No shit." Luann hissed. "She is so totally like Clay, it's a little scary."

"Luann, you should have known better thinking that Jolene would even consider wearing that." Gemma nodded at the red, white and navy blue sailor dress hanging on one of the racks for unwanted clothing, with a pair of red patent leather Mary Jane's on the floor beneath it. "She is nothing but a straight up tomboy."

"Heavens forbid she should look like a girl! I don't know what I was thinking. After all, look who she hangs around with all the time. Nothing but big, brawny, tatted up bikers and their sons in the garage. Is it any wonder she wants to look just like them?"

And Gemma couldn't help but agree when Jolene finally came out of the cubicle to face them.

The only thing that identified Jolene Morrow as a girl were her long dark curls, which she had managed to shove into one of Piney's old denim caps she had taken to wearing. Sporting nothing but a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt, Jolene looked more like miniature version of Jax than Clay Morrow's "baby girl."

Having strategized in the tiny cubicle while changing, Jolene decided go after the mark that would best get her what she wanted. Looking Luann dead in the eye, Jolene felt she had a better chance of intimidating Big Otto's old lady than dealing with the Drill Sarge. Besides, her father had always told her that she should be direct and to the point about what she wanted.

"I want this one." She directed at Luann.

"But sweetie, it's a little on the plain side, don't cha think? How about adding a little splash of color, like a pink sweater, maybe?" Luann suggested.

Jolene almost rolled her eyes, but caught a glimpse of Gemma's icy expression and quickly managed to keep them from rolling around in her head. "I don't do pink and neither does Jax—my daddy." She replied confidently.

"Oh Luann, give it a rest already. Obviously, Jolene is no different from any other woman and knows exactly what she wants to wear." At this point, all Gemma cared about was that she didn't look like a ragamuffin. After all, the women of SAMCRO had a reputation to maintain, even the ones barely four feet tall. "Why don't we just pick up a bunch of jeans, t-shirts, some new underwear and a couple of pairs of sneakers and call it a day, huh?"

"I could use some steel-toed boots, too." Jolene announced.

"I didn't know they made them in toddler sizes, but we can check." Gemma snarked, earning a dead-eye stare from Jolene. "Seeing that you and your father have a ban on 'pink' would blue or red be up your alley?"

Jolene cocked her head to the side. "I'll consider it, but I'll need to see it first." She countered. Sometimes shirts would have lace or frilly bits, and she wouldn't put it past either woman to try and sneak something like that under her radar.

Throwing up her hands, the Queen of Charming said, "Fine, then let's get the hell out of here."

_That wasn't too bad, _Jolene thought happily.

She had been dreading the ordeal ever since her father dropped the bomb on her several days ago. There was no way she was going to be tricked out like a mini-version of Gemma or worse, Luann. While Jolene thought they looked all right, and knew that they were the envy of all the women hanging around the Clubhouse, Jolene wasn't interested in all of that frou-frou girly jazz.

_Besides, I can't play with Jax and Opie wearing a dress._

Overall, Jolene was pleased at how everything played out. That was until she rounded the corner and saw the display in the intimates section for girls.

The large display was lavish. With helium-filled balloons and stuffed animals, it was attention getting. Jolene nearly caught her breath as she saw dozens of princess nightgowns in every size and color imaginable.

Now Jolene never considered herself to be the princess-type. After all, she was SAMCRO through and through, just like her daddy. But when she first went shopping with her father and Uncle Elvis, the saleslady had picked out a pink princess nightgown for her and Jolene had loved it from the moment she had put it on. With her recent growth spurt, however, she had quickly outgrown it, but she still wore the tight garment, unwilling to give it up.

Seeing Jolene eyeball the display of gowns, Gemma made a spur of the moment decision. Reaching over, she snatched one up that she thought was Jolene's size, with a little room to spare, and hung it over her arm with the rest of her new clothes.

Looking at the wide-eyed expression and raised eyebrows of the little girl, Gemma said, "I know this is probably way too sparkly and pink for ya, but every girl needs a nightgown, so you're just gonna have to put up with it. I'm sure you and your father will get over it."

Jolene casually shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't give a flip. "If you say so."

"I do." Gemma managed to say without smiling.

Walking ahead of the two women towards the cash register, Jolene allowed herself a small little smile.

* * *

><p>It was a subject for the ages, one that had baffled fathers and sent them running away in terror and fear since the dawn of time.<p>

Clarence Morrow was no exception to the rule.

It was a quiet Saturday morning, normally a favorite of both Morrows. However, it was a different story altogether if Clay had over-indulged at the after-Church party the night before, as was the case on this particular morning.

Jolene sat at one of the tables in the Main Room of the Clubhouse, steadily working her way through a large plate of French Toast and spicy pork sausage, all of which was swimming in loads of butter and pure maple syrup, with gusto. Her father, on the other hand, was nursing one of Piney's special Bloody Mary's, a surefire cure for the dog that had bit him, a pitcher of which sat between him and Bobby Elvis, who had also overindulged.

The late morning sun filled the Clubhouse and gave it a hazy look as it reflected on the dust motes in the air. The majority of the revelers had already left the Clubhouse, with the exception of those patches who were still sleeping it off in their dorms.

Bobby smiled as he watched Jolene dip another piece of sausage into a pool of syrup, twirling it around until it was fully drenched and then popping it into her mouth. It still tickled him pink to see his goddaughter tear into her food with such obvious enjoyment. He was glad that he hadn't tied one on too much the night before so that he could handle making her one of her many favorite breakfasts without tossing his cookies. He wasn't sure, however, if his brother would be able to take watching his daughter eat for much longer.

_Clay don't look too good._

The VP of the mother charter had decided to have a really good time last night. Having a kid around during the last six months had almost brought the biker's sex life to a complete and utter halt. Last night, however, with Jolene spending the night at the Teller household, Clay decided that it was time he took his dick off the chain and let him loose on the always eager to please croweaters and sweetbutts littering the party.

As a result, he was not quite sober when Gemma dropped Jolene off at the Clubhouse in the late hours of the morning. He barely managed to get the two ripe, young sweetbutts out of his dorm without his baby girl seeing them. Getting a heads up from her Uncle Elvis on his pre-pay, and with Bobby distracting Jolene with the offer of breakfast, Clay hustled the women from his dorm and out the back exit. He barely had enough time to get his ass back in bed before his daughter opened the door and pounced on him.

Nagging him to get up and take a shower—which, Clay was the first to admit, he sorely needed—Jolene had done her best to make his bed. After getting Bobby to open the windows, Jolene liberally sprayed the room with a can of air freshener she found sitting on a chest of drawers in order to get rid of the funky odor hanging in the air. As Clay showered, Jolene attempted to tidy up her father's dorm. Failing to mention that Gemma had already fed her a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs earlier that morning, Bobby headed off to the kitchen to start on Kit's French toast.

Now, as he sat at the table, Clay did everything he could to avert his eyes from the remnants of Jolene's plate while the scent of the butter and maple syrup assaulted his nostrils.

_Baby girl will be pissed if I throw up on what's left of her breakfast._

While trying to deal with his still-inebriated state, Clay was completely unprepared for Jolene's next question.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, baby girl?"

The little girl cocked her small head inquiringly at her father as he raised his Bloody Mary to his lips. "Did you have sex last night?"

Without warning, Bloody Mary spewed out of the biker's mouth, while Bobby had a coughing fit. Using a blue bandana to wipe the contents of his hangover remedy from his face and his cut, Clay almost roared, "What did you just say?"

"I said, did you have—"

"Don't finish that, Kit." Her uncle managed to get out, as he tried to wipe his own vest clean of Clay's projectile.

To say that Clarence Morrow was shocked, flabbergasted and dismayed would not be unexpected. What was worse was the feeling of embarrassment he felt as, for the first time since he had been a boy, he felt a blush stain his cheeks.

"Ah shit!" Piney roared with laughter from the bar. "You're in for it now!"

Seeing the alarm and fear that was reflected in Jolene's seafoam green eyes, Clay did his best to rein in his anger. "That's pretty grown up talk for a little girl. Why would you ask me that?"

Jolene's lips suddenly trembled. "Daddy, you said that if I ever had a question that I should always ask you about it, so I'm asking 'cause I found a pair of panties in your bed sheets, and Jax says—"

_Stupid, damn sweetbutts!_

"What the f—hell, what the hell did Jax say and when did he say it?" Ignoring the reference to the no-doubt provocative undergarments his little girl had stumbled upon, the middle-aged biker almost growled.

It was slowly dawning on Jolene that maybe this was not the time to ask her father any more questions. "Never mind, Daddy. It's not important."

But the twisted side of Bobby Elvis couldn't let it go. "I'm with your dad on this one, Kit. Just what exactly did young Jackson have to say?"

Realizing that she might have just dropped a one ton dime on her hero, Jolene thought quickly. "Well, he didn't actually _tell_ me anything, I kind of overheard it."

And that had been true. The night before, Jolene and her two brothers-in-arms had set up sleeping bags at the foot of Thomas' bed and had a great time until Thomas had fallen asleep around midnight. Jolene quickly followed him to the Land of Nod, but had woken up to the hushed whispers of Jax and Opie less than an hour later. Unaware that she was awake, Jolene got an earful from the two 11 year old boys about the women of SAMCRO.

While Jolene had been sheltered for the most part regarding the reason why there were so many women hanging around the Clubhouse who were not old ladies, she did spend a lot of time people-watching. For the most part, she was usually never around when these women were there, but Jolene had big ears and, hanging around the old ladies, one tended to pick up a fair amount of information about these women whether you wanted to or not. As a general rule, most old ladies, Gemma and Luann in particular, called these hang-arounds "dirty whores."

Jax and Opie, however, had unknowingly filled in some of the gaps of Jolene's limited knowledge and she now wrinkled her nose in disgust as she thought about one of those women in particular.

One croweater, a woman named Tina, came to the Morrow home at least once a week to do general housekeeping for the Club's VP and his daughter. But now, armed with the knowledge she had culled from the old ladies and her two brothers, Jolene was feeling none too happy about this woman hanging around her father, whether in their house or at the Clubhouse.

Jolene would see them on the lot, sometimes in passing, pressed up against one another, laughing shrilly and flirting with the patches foolish enough to give them a second glance. She didn't like them. _Not at all_.

They reminded her of Valentina.

_And the things Valentina would do with her boyfriends while I was in the closet._

So Jolene was determined to find out just what her father was up to and put a stop to it, if she could.

Mustering up courage, Jolene put her fork down and looked her father in his steely blue eyes. "Jax said that the women who hang around here aren't nice women and that Gemma got one thrown out of the Clubhouse."

Technically, what her hero had said was that they were whores who would throw their skirts up for anyone with a top rocker and that his mother had beat the stank off of one of them and _then_ threw her out of the Clubhouse. Jax had been quoting a conversation he had overheard between his mother and Luann. They had been talking about a girl named Liza that Gemma had recently run out of town on a rail.

The boys had been talking so low that Jolene couldn't hear all of the details, but she knew that if she made her presence known, Jax would stop feeding Ope the 4-1-1.

_Sometimes he treats me like a little kid._

But the information she had heard was enough, especially when she put it together with other little tidbits she had picked up here and there. From what she could gather, the woman had stepped out of line with Gemma's old man and she had sent the woman off packing. If the Drill Sarge thought the woman was bad news, then as far as Jolene was concerned, _all_ the Clubhouse women were bad too and she didn't want them around her daddy. Period.

"I don't think you should hang around with bad women. Gemma doesn't like them, and I don't either." Jolene crossed her arms and laid them on her chest as she looked at her father with narrowed eyes.

Clay rubbed his head. _Damnit, JT, this is all your fault._

Clay was well aware of the incident that Jolene was talking about. Word had spread like wildfire throughout SAMCRO as well as the other charters. The fecal matter started flying when a relatively new croweater, who was also apparently light on brain cells, thought she could press up on the handsome President in the mother charter's Clubhouse and get away with it. As the young woman would quickly and painfully learn, she was sadly mistaken.

Gemma Teller wasted no time in jacking the bitch up and promptly sent her on her way with a busted nose and a patch of bleached blonde hair missing from her head.

Why JT would want to fuck up what he had with Gemma by hitting that skank _in Charming_ still baffled Clay. There was plenty of opportunity for that kind of distraction on the road.

_You don't shit where you live, bro._

Now, the story had finally come full circle and landed in his baby girl's ear. And _now_ he had to try to find a way to explain his "needs" to his nearly 7 year old daughter.

Seeing that his brother was a loss for words, Bobby decided to put Clay out of his misery and came to the rescue.

"Come here, Kit." The little girl quickly climbed down from her chair and settled herself in her uncle's ample lap.

_I know Uncle Elvis will be straight with me._

But as Bobby peered into the direct bright green gaze of the little girl, a lump suddenly formed in his throat.

_How did I get myself suckered into this?_

"You see, Kit, your daddy loves you very much—" Bobby started.

Jolene was quick to interrupt him. "I _already_ know that, Uncle Elvis." She rolled her eyes as if to say "get to the point already."

"Well, you wanna let me do the talking?" He blustered. The little girl sighed, but remained silent. Looking at his VP, whose blue eyes were imploring him to figure this shit out and quick, the grizzled biker had a hard time concentrating, especially as Piney was still snorting with laughter at the bar.

_I'm going to cut the wire to his oxygen tank when I'm done with Kit._

"But your dad has other friends. I mean, you have Jax, Opie and Tommy, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you have sleepovers, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, last night your dad kinda had a sleepover, too."

A spate of snorts, coughs and strangled laughter came from the general direction of the bar, but Bobby refused to pay any attention.

"Is he okay?" Jolene looked over her uncle's shoulder at Piney. "Maybe you should take a hit." She said, referring to the portable oxygen tank on top of the bar.

"Yeah," Clay said as he gave his old sponsor a hard look. "Preferably as you light a cigarette."

_With any luck, his oxygen tank will explode and chunks of Piney flying overhead will distract baby girl from her interrogation._

Bobby got back to the matter at hand. "Now I know you love your dad, but I know you're best buds with the boys, so you care for all of them, right?"

Jolene nodded.

"Your dad loves you too, but he has friends that he, uh, cares about too. Don't mean he loves you any less. It's just different, and in the end, you are the most important person to him. Do you believe that?"

Jolene looked at her father and, to Clay's relief, she smiled. "I do."

"So Kit, you don't have a thing to worry about his friends at the Clubhouse, you gets?"

"Okay. I gets." Reaching over she gave her uncle a big hug. "Thanks for explaining, Uncle Elvis." Sliding out of his lap, Jolene walked around the table to face her father.

"So, we okay now?" He said gruffly.

"Yeah, we're cool." Jolene grabbed her father's face and kissed him on the forehead. "I'm going outside and see what Dog is working on."

Clay slumped in his chair as he watched his baby girl run outside. "Oh my God!" He moaned. "Do you believe this shit?"

Bobby stood up and walked over to the bar to grab a bottle of Jack and two shot glasses.

"After that mindfuck, I need a drink." Looking at the still-stupefied VP, Bobby managed a grin. "You owe my ass big time for this."

* * *

><p>"Will you teach me how to clean a bathroom?"<p>

The question was a bit of a shock to Gemma Teller. Standing at her kitchen counter fixing a plate of sandwiches for her two students, she hadn't heard Jolene creep up behind her until she spoke up.

Turning around, she looked into the determined face of the little girl and realized that somebody had stuck a stick up the child's ass.

Narrowing her eyes at the wise-beyond-her-years child, Gemma chuckled. "That is absolutely the last thing I would ever expect a tomboy say. Take a seat." Nodding over to the small breakfast nook in the kitchen, the old lady sat down, placing the plate of food on the table. "You don't seem to be the Betty Crocker-type to me, so why in the world would you want to learn how to clean a bathroom?"

Jolene didn't want to confess her reasons, but knew that she probably wouldn't get what she wanted unless she was upfront with Drill Sarge. "I don't like other people in my house, so if I learn to take care of it, Daddy won't need to have Tina come over any more." The child wrinkled her nose disdainfully. "She's not a good woman."

_Well, well, so the SAMCRO Princess is putting her size ones down_, Gemma smiled to herself_._

It was all over the Clubhouse how Jolene practically had her father's balls put on a keychain and in her pocket after discovering some sweetbutt's panties in his dorm. Apparently, the girl had decided that she wanted no whores in her father's room at the Clubhouse or in her home either.

_Smart kid. Wait until I tell Luann_.

Gemma nodded approvingly at the little girl. "That's makes sense."

Jolene was a little in awe. _Drill Sarge agrees with me?_

"But there's more to learn than just cleaning the bathroom. And I don't mind showing you how, and a few other things, but its going to take you a while to get used to doing stuff on your own."

"I can do it." Jolene replied adamantly.

_No doubt. _The girl was obviously determined.

"Well, until you learn everything you need to know, I think you still need somebody to take care of your place." Seeing the mutinous glare in the girl's eye, Gemma raised her hand. "Hold your horses. I'm not talking about Tina. Let me talk to your dad. I know a few people in town. I'm sure I can get somebody to come in to do some housekeeping, a nice middle-aged lady to clean up after you, that is, until you can take over. Does that work for you?"

Jolene put her hand on chin and carefully thought the matter over. "I guess that could work. And she wouldn't be one of the _ladies_ from the Club?"

"Nope. I promise."

"Okay." Jolene remembered what little manners her Uncle Elvis tried to instill in her. "Thank you for your help."

"No problem. Here," Gemma handed Jolene the plate of sandwiches. "Take these in for you and Thomas and I'll bring in the milk."

"You got some chips or some potato salad and fruit to go with this? It's not a lot." Jolene warned.

"Keep your shirt on, there's plenty."

Watching the little girl leave with the sandwiches, Gemma chuckled to herself.

_If Clay ever does take on an old lady, she will have to be pretty quick on the uptake to deal with that little rascal._

* * *

><p>Jolene sat in her chair, her eyebrows furrowed in tight concentration at the task at hand.<p>

Peeling eggs wasn't as easy as her Uncle made it look.

Sitting at the small table in the Morrow's tiny kitchen, Jolene was getting her first cooking lesson from her Uncle Elvis.

Actually, to Jolene's untrained eye, it seemed more like cutting and chopping than actual cooking and she as much said so to Bobby.

"I know I like to eat what we're making, but I'd rather learn how to make Chili."

Bobby Elvis let out a hearty laugh, his ample belly jiggling in response. "Oh, Kit, the art of learning how to make my Chili is a privilege to be _earned_. It's gonna be a good long while before I think you're ready for that."

The biker had not been as surprised as Clay when his goddaughter had asked him to teach her how to cook. Jolene had a pretty mean independent streak running through her and quickly pleaded her case with cold, hard facts. "I can't always wait for you to be around to cook for us and since I can't drive to Nicky's Diner on my own, I need to know how to fix our own food when I want it 'cause Daddy don't know how to either."

Proud that his goddaughter wanted him to share his knowledge regarding one of his passions, Bobby borrowed Clay's cage and took Jolene to Murphy's Stop-N-Shop. Once there, he gave Jolene her first and, in his mind, the most important, lesson in cooking as they picked up the ingredients needed for her first dish.

"Always buy quality ingredients, Kit. And if at all possible, always go organic and locally grown. For instance, tomatoes fresh off a farmer's truck will always be sweeter, riper, and juicier than that cellophane-wrapped shit you find in most markets." Bobby lectured as they walked down the produce aisle with Jolene pushing the shopping cart. "Also, always get your meat from a butcher. Store-bought will do ya in a pinch, but I always get meat for my chili from a German butcher in Lodi. Quality ingredients mean you'll get a tasty meal."

For her first hands-on cooking lesson, Bobby decided to teach Jolene something simple, which he knew was a favorite of both the bottomless pit and her grumpy father: Bobby Elvis' Deviled Tuna Salad.

Bobby's recipe was quite simple, with his only rules being that certain brands were NOT interchangeable with the ones he used and that no good tuna salad was made without eggs, which was why Jolene was currently peeling four large ones.

"Now, Kit, I know the only thing we 'cooked' was the eggs, but this here tuna salad is not only tasty, it'll stick to your ribs, especially when you eat it on a crusty yet doughy bread like the French rolls we picked up at the bakery." Bobby waggled a finger at her. "Remember, you are not to use the stove unless your father is around. Now I know your dad ain't trained, but I have to believe he can at least boil a freakin' egg. You gots?"

Jolene nodded her head vigorously. "I gots."

Bobby spent the rest of the afternoon directing Jolene, showing her how to chop the eggs up using a fork and giving her background info on each ingredient as she added it into the large bowl holding the eggs.

"You gotta remember that when making a good tuna salad the mayo is everything. And what do we use in this house?"

Jolene nodded her head solemnly. "Only Best Food's."

"Good girl. I can't tell you how many times people have ruined a perfectly good tuna salad with the wrong mayonnaise. And one other thing. I only bought this expensive pre-diced celery because I don't want you using knives yet. When you get more skilled, you can buy the whole celery and chop it up yourself. Now, when you're done mixing it, we'll put it in the fridge and let it chill for a couple of hours. Have you mixed it up good?"

Jolene's little tongue stuck out between gritted teeth. "I think so."

"There's only one way to find out. Let's take a taste. Sometimes I get it right on the first try, sometimes I got to add a little more of this or that to it." Taking two forks, Bobby scooped up a generous bite on each fork. "Let's see how good you did."

Jolene took her fork and shoved the salad into her mouth. After chewing judiciously for several seconds and then swallowing, she smiled up at her uncle. "I don't know about you, but I think it's pretty good!"

"You know, I think your right. You did pretty good for your first time in the kitchen, Kit."

Jolene beamed at her uncle's praise. "Thanks, Uncle Elvis and thanks for teaching me." The little girl looked at the contents of the large bowl. _I wouldn't mind a sandwich right now._ "How long do you think this will last?"

Bobby took a good look at the bowl. "For most other people, probably four or five helpings. With you and your father, I'd say two, the way the two of you eat."

Jolene giggled. "Daddy's gonna be really surprised at how good it came out. Before I know it, I'll be so good, we'll be eating at home a lot more."

_And not at the Clubhouse._

* * *

><p>There were no words to express the horror! Jolene stood frozen with her hands over her mouth as if to stifle a scream, her eyes wide and wild.<p>

The figurine was smashed to bits! A billion sparkly bits!

Just a moment before there had been laughter, fun and good times.

Now, there was nothing but silence.

Finally, one of the four spoke.

"Oh shit!"

Jolene couldn't believe he had said it out loud. Looking around the room searching for the one adult she knew with the hearing of a bat, she cried out, "Tommy?"

"Uh, Jo, this is definitely an 'oh shit' moment." Opie advised darkly.

"You ain't kidding, bro." Jax knelt down to examine the remains of what had been a crystal swan made by Waterford. "It's a goner."

"I'm gonna have to tell her." Tommy sat down heavily on the sofa. He had been winded before their game had been called to a halt and now he was extremely tired.

Both Jax and Jolene moved together in unison to check on him. "Are you okay?" Jolene said urgently, pushing a hank of dark hair that had come loose away from her eyes.

"I'm a little tired, but I'm more afraid of what Mom's gonna do. That was her favorite."

"Tommy, don't worry about that right now. Ope, you go to the closet and get the broom and dust pan. I'll go get Tommy some water. Jo, you keep Tommy quiet," Jax ordered, quickly assuming the role of group leader.

As he ran towards the kitchen, Jax was angry and pissed at himself. It had been his idea to toss a football around in the house.

_Idiot, there's a perfectly good backyard we coulda used!_

But Jax knew his reasoning against going outside. He had been thinking of his little brother and, how in a more controlled environment inside, Tommy wouldn't be tempted to overdo it by running and jumping. Jax had been right in that regard. His little brother had wanted to play so much and Jax just wanted him to have some fun. The last time they had actually played outside was a family trip to the beach back when Tommy's health had seemed to be taking a turn for the better.

Jax tried hard to remain optimistic, hoping that eventually Thomas would make a full recovery. But even at his age, it was becoming more and more clear to Jax that his brother's health was failing. He could see it in his father's eyes and hear it in his mother's constant worrying. Gemma had changed her mind at least half a dozen times today before finally deciding to trust them enough to leave them alone with Tommy. There had been just no way around it. She needed to make a quick run to Lodi to pick up some steaks from the German for the big Sunday dinner she had planned.

Jax returned to the living room with a glass of water to find that Opie had started cleaning up the broken crystal and that Jolene had Tommy settled into the far corner of the couch with his feet up, a light blanket over his legs and a pillow supporting his back. The high color he had from overexerting himself had returned to normal and he seemed to be breathing evenly again.

"Hey little bro, drink up."

Tommy nodded his thanks as he literally drained the glass dry. "I didn't know I so thirsty."

"Do you want some more?" Jolene said anxiously.

"No. I'm good, but what are we going to do about that?" Tommy pointed to Opie, who had scooped up the last bit of the figurine into a Hefty bag.

"I think there's no help for it. We're gonna have to fess up." Jax replied.

Tommy crossed his arms. "I threw the ball. I'll tell her."

"No, that's _not_ a good idea." Jolene shook her head solemnly.

"But it's the truth." Tommy protested.

"Yeah, I know, but if one of us broke the swan, well, it ain't gonna be pretty, but just _one_ of us will go down for it. If _you _cop to it, your mom's gonna go nuts! She'll know that you were running around and getting overheated and excited and all that happy crap and then we'll _all_ go down." Jolene said wisely.

"Jo's right. I'll take the blame." Jax stood up.

"No. I will." Jolene exclaimed to Jax's utter shock. "I was supposed to catch. If I had, we wouldn't all be in trouble right now."

"Squirt, you would have needed go-go Gadget arms to catch that shit." Opie snarked.

"And that's why I should take the blame." Tommy interjected.

"We already talked that shit out, Tommy." Jax gave his little brother a hard stare. "You're not copping to it, a'ight?"

"Okay." Tommy mumbled.

Jax sat on the corner of the sofa and threw his arm around his little brother. "Hey, it's gonna be okay."

Just then, at the sound of a car pulling into the Teller's driveway, the four children froze once again.

"Damn it! It should've taken her at least another thirty minutes. Ope, quick. Hide that mess under my bed and get back here fast. Maybe if we keep her occupied, she won't notice it right off." Jax suggested.

Jolene rolled her eyes. "Really? Your mother's old—not stupid! She's gonna notice it eventually."

Grabbing a deck of UNO cards that was sitting on the coffee table, Jax quickly dealt out some cards as Opie skidded back into the room.

"Start playing, talking, anything!" Jax ordered as he handed his fellow conspirators their cards.

* * *

><p><em>I smell a rat.<em>

Gemma knew it the moment she entered the front door. All mothers had the instinct. It was only a matter of whether or not they chose to exercise it.

Coming around the corner of her entranceway loaded down with bags, Gemma found four, very sedate children playing a card game in her living room. Gemma narrowed her eyes. UNO is in no way, shape or form a sedate game, especially when her little monsters were involved, so immediately Gemma's hackles were up, but decided to play it cool anyway.

"Hey, kids. Whatcha got going?"

"Uh, just some cards, Ma." Jax put down his hand and walked over to his mother as he swept his longish blond locks away from his face. "Those look heavy. Let me grab that for ya." Flashing her one of the many patented Teller smiles, Jax took one of the bags from his mother's arms. "Man, this is heavy. Get the other one, Ope."

"Well, just what I needed, my two strong young men." Walking over to her youngest, Gemma bent over to kiss him on the forehead. "How are you doing, baby?"

"I'm just fine, Ma. We've been having a good time." Tommy replied, a little breathlessly.

"Are you sure, baby? You seem a little out of breath. Have you been off the couch?"

"NO!" All four children exclaimed.

_Uh huh. They must think I'm old and stupid. Maybe I'll give them a little more rope to hang themselves before I start the interrogation._

Gemma straightened up. "There are some more bags in the car the two of you can get for me after you take those to the kitchen."

It was then when she turned around that it hit her—there was an empty space on one of the shelves of her black lacquer curio cabinet.

_Oh, Hell's no!_

"Freeze!"

Jax literally froze in his tracks. He recognized the sound of barely-under control rage in her voice all too well.

_Busted! But no sweat._

Preparing to fall on his sword for his loyal band of mischief makers, he turned around to face a furious Gemma. But before he could open his mouth, Jolene jumped up from the sofa. "It was my fault. I did it."

"Did what?" Gemma glared at the suddenly terrified little girl.

_She looks like a deer caught in the headlights_, Gemma thought as she fought to keep a straight face.

Jolene nearly swallowed her tongue but then quickly spit out a story, without taking a breath, that to her mind sounded like it made sense. "I threw the football before Jax realized that I was going to and he tried to catch it, but it was too late and it smashed into the swan, so it's not his fault."

_Bullshit! This has Jax written all over it. _

But as Gemma looked from one to the other, Jax tried to interrupt. "Ma, it wasn't like that—"

"Yes it was, Gemma. I did it by myself, so you should punish me."

"Mom, we're both responsible, so we should both be punished." Jax insisted, deciding he couldn't let Jolene take the fall by herself and gave her the _look_ that begged she keep her mouth shut.

Gemma looked at the mini Bonnie and Clyde. "Okay, since one or both of you either throws like a girl or can't catch worth shit, you can both work KP duty for tomorrow's dinner. Jolene, your father can drop you off around 8:00 a.m., and Jackson, there's plenty of work that needs to be done in the backyard and then you can come help out in the kitchen. Dinner isn't until 4:00, but I'm sure I can find plenty to keep you busy all day, so you won't be tempted to play ball in the house."

"Yes, ma'am." They both replied meekly.

As Gemma looked each child in the face, she caught the expression in Tommy's eyes. His beautiful eyes were indeed a mirror into his soul and reflected everything in him.

_The little devil!_

Gemma realized that she pretty much had both Jax and Jolene's number, especially when it came to protecting Tommy. She was absolutely sure that this wouldn't be the last time these two would find themselves in a mess together and, even though she had a pretty good idea about what had actually gone down, Gemma decided to let it go.

_For now._

* * *

><p>"Okay, Kid." Clay crouched beside his daughter. Wearing a pair of dark wash jeans, steel-toed boots and his T-M work shirt over a white wife beater, Clay made an imposing figure on the lot, but to Jolene he was just her daddy. "So, have you figured out what everything is?"<p>

Jolene smiled at her father. She had done her research, questioning Jax and then Opie to make sure she had it right. "Yup." She pointed to the two tools. "That's a diamond jack and a tire iron."

"All right. So what do you plan on doing with 'em?"

The little girl rolled her eyes. "I'm not gonna do anything. I'm just a kid. You're going to show me and I'm going to watch."

"I guess that makes sense, but you learn better from doing and if you want to learn how to change a tire right, you need to be hands on about it." Clay advised.

"Okay. I guess it's better if I learn to do it now, huh? That way I can change the tire on my own cage when I get my driver's license." Jolene grinned at him.

"Baby girl, having a driver's license and having a car are two entirely different things." Clay snarked. "Besides, you're better off getting a pilot's license because by the time I let you behind the wheel of a vehicle, we'll be living in a world of flying cars."

_Because if she's anything like me, she'll have a fuckin' lead foot._

Deciding that he rather not think about his little girl behind the wheel, Clay turned his attention back to the subject at hand. "Okay. The first thing we're going to do is to loosen the lug nuts."

"Those are the screws that keep the tire on, right?"

Clay nodded approvingly. "That's right." Taking the tire iron, he showed Jolene how to fix it onto a nut and quickly gave it a couple of turns. "Now I want you to try it."

Jolene placed her hands on the tire iron and with her father's help, managed to loosen the next nut. "That wasn't too bad." She exclaimed happily.

"Nah, you did pretty good." Clay mussed up his daughter's wild hair with his bear claw.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Clay looked over his shoulder to see Otto Delaney heading over. "Use your eyes, idiot. I'm giving the Kid here a lesson on how to change a tire."

The younger man grinned at Clay's usual greeting, which Otto was convinced was a term of endearment, as he bent down to assess their work. "Smart. We could always use another grease monkey around here."

Jolene leaned against Big Otto's shoulder. "What's a grease monkey, Big O?"

"It's a nickname for a mechanic. You're smart taking lessons from your old man. He's probably the best mechanic on the lot, with the exception of Lowell Sr." Otto nodded at one of the middle-aged mechanics currently on break. "That is, when he's not tweaking."

Jolene wrinkled her brow. "What's tweaking?"

Clay's eyes nearly bore a hole through the younger patch's face. "See why I call ya 'idiot'?" He shook his head disdainfully. Addressing Jolene, Clay said, "It means nothing you need to worry your head about, baby girl. But one thing Otto's right about. We could use a little more help around here."

"I bet I can be a great grease monkey."

"I have no doubt whatsoever about that, baby girl," Clay beamed at her proudly. "But less yapping and more doin'. Let's get back to finishing up this tire."

* * *

><p>The table was groaning with the weight of the food.<p>

_Just the way I like it_.

Jolene grinned as she shoved another bite of Gemma Teller's juicy meatloaf into her mouth and followed it up with a bite of mash potatoes swimming in gravy.

Looking over on her right, her father was busy shoveling food into his mouth as well as he laughed with his brothers. On her left, Tommy was giggling as his brother and father argued over the merits of newest Harley out on the market versus JT's beloved panhead.

It was a late fall Sunday afternoon in the Teller household and it was a special one as this one marked a full year that Jolene Morrow had become a member of the SAMCRO family. Since Jolene was the guest of honor, all First 9 progeny were invited to sit at the table with the grown-ups.

Catching Gemma's eye, Clay raised his bottle of beer at her with a smile and a nod. It was Gemma who had approached him about having a special get-together for SAMCRO's inner circle to celebrate Jolene's first year in Charming. Clay had been truly touched by her thoughtfulness.

Truth was Clay felt indebted to Gemma Teller in ways he would never be able to repay. She had welcomed his baby girl not only into her home, but into the SAMCRO family as well. Gemma treated Jolene no different than she would Opie and at times, no different than she would treat her own sons. He was truly grateful that JT's old lady, in her capacity as Queen of Charming, served as a role model for his impressionable daughter. No doubt that the almost-regal looking woman and loving mother had managed to undo years of damage inflicted on his little girl by her worthless egg donor. Gemma was truly the ideal old lady.

About a month before, and completely out of the blue, CPS had called the Clubhouse once again to speak with Clay. They advised that he was required to return to Seattle with Jolene for her final health and well-being evaluation before the end of her first year in his custody. The results of that evaluation would determine whether or not Jolene would stay with her father permanently.

To the surprise of Jolene's former CPS case worker Miranda Brant, the evaluation revealed that the "minor subject" had fared very well in her new environment, growing in good health physically and mentally and passing the standardized testing for first graders with flying colors, with Jolene showing a high aptitude for math and science.

Having returned to Charming at the tail end of the last week, Clay soon received a certified letter from Washington's Child Protective Services congratulating him. Impressed with how well the child was thriving, Clay Morrow now had sole-custody of his daughter, with CPS no longer required to monitor Jolene's case.

Finally, baby girl—the child he didn't know he loved until he met her—was officially his!

Clay suddenly banged the table with his meat hook fist to get everyone's attention and stood up. "Well, I ain't one on making speeches, so I'll keep this brief. On behalf of me and the Kid here, I want to thank my President and best friend JT and your amazing old lady Gemma for this spread here tonight in honor of Jolene and her first year in Charming. I'm especially grateful to Gemma for taking the time to home school her and to both her and Bobby for helping me out with some of this father shit I'm still trying to wrap my head around. All in all, it's been a real interesting year, but I don't think we've done too shabby, huh Kid."

Jolene smiled. "Nope, you've been doing pretty good, Daddy. I hardly have to remind you that dirty socks go in the hamper anymore, so a little more home-training and you'll be great!" As the entire table roared with laughter, Clay reached over to affectionately tousle his daughter's wild locks.

_I guess it's really true. Life's best gifts often come in small packages._


End file.
